


The Lost Paladin

by thepizzaman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Basically, Eventual Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Lance (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Kidnapping, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Rescue Missions, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Temporary Character Death, Zarkon is an asshole who kidnaps children, like brotp, mild Shance, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:23:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9432671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzaman/pseuds/thepizzaman
Summary: 10,000 years is a long time to be hiding, waiting, watching for your chance to strike. 10,000 years is a long time to sit around while a power hunger monster devours the universe into his empire, leaving everything you thought you knew behind. 10,00 years is a long time to be Zarkon's pawn in his pathetic war, kept away from your home, forced to watch your friends die. 10,000 years is a long prelude to Lance's relief. Lance waits, nonetheless, he obeys, and he watches, and he fights for Zarkon. Shiro is his only window to the real world, dwindling, but still there. He knows as soon as he lays eyes on his champion what his fate is, he feels the lost rumble of pure quintessence in his gut.Lance is the Lost Paladin, and he will have his revenge.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 Shiro met Lance in the arena.

 

At this point, there was nothing Shiro couldn’t fight – with his cybernetic arm by his side, scythe blade in his grasp; he’d fought beasts and monsters and Galra creations alike. All of them heartbreakingly easy to kill

 

 _Voltron, volron_ the whisper echoed up and down the halls, Sendak whispering it from where he sat on high, gazing skeptically down at every fault in Shiro’s movement like he was categorizing a machine for repair. A masked figure, slim and slender, sat in a luxury seat beside him like a trophy. He relaxed into it like he owned it, his posture screamed with subdued authority. Attendants hovered around him like guards.

 

Shiro glared up at him as well, but the captain didn’t break eye contact. He was haunting him, walking past his cell every night, checking up on him, watching and waiting. Everyday Shiro got closer and closer to freedom, his mind lingered on the patterns of the guards while he fought tooth and nail for survival and his arm became more and more powerful to be aid to the Galra’s thickening thirst for blood.

 

Shiro had seen Lance before, in passing.

 

He was a captain under Sendak, cherished by Zarkon, feared by the Galra. He was a delicacy to behold and a threat to fear. At least, that was the impression he was intended to give.

 

He was a slender, dark skinned creature with proportions nothing akin to that of his comrades. His face was hidden behind the dark shadow of a Glara helmet and his eyes glowed unnaturally red. A cape slung elegantly over his right shoulder, covering the blade and deadly gun Shiro knew he had always at hand.

 

At night, the captain would patrol, stalk, the hallways of the prison ward, stopping at every other cage and cataloging its inhabitants.

 

He spoke to Shiro only once before they took him to Haggar and butchered him like a science experiment and turned him into the ultimate carrier for violence. Shiro had come to think of the captain as a friend, a twisted friend – an ally. Those eyes carved anxiety into him – colored beyond blood red and glowing with a dead passion.

 

His armor was disturbingly familiar, covering his chest, arms, neck and legs, the raven black material gave his walk a sharp edge and made his body all the more slender and flexible, dangerous. It was a slightly less blocky; carbon copy of what Zarkon himself wore.

 

While on command his head was adorned with a standard helmet that cradled his face, but when off duty he wore a thin veil to cover his eyes and nose.

 

It made him look almost delicate.

 

Almost

 

\--

 

Shiro met Lance in the arena.

 

He stood on the steps of the coliseum, glaring death up at Sendak, who smiled back. Hundreds of Galra and other aliens filled the seats, cheering and whooping like the animals they where.

 

Lance sat, bemused by Shiro’s fighting. He watched the champions every move like a hawk, admiring the ripple of his muscles and the quick of his wit; how perfectly he blended the two to become a killing machine.

 

Monster after bloodthirsty monster he mowed down, barely breathing between challenges. Opposite him, the gates, looming like a mountain. The drew up like curtains would reveal a stage, and out stepped no monster (by looks), no deadly creation (so thought), no challenge (so hoped).

 

Lance was only a boy, Shiro would come to learn, Barely 20 years old, but deadly all the same.

 

He had a whip at his side, long and crackling with static energy. It dragged behind him and curled around his feet like a snake, when it split the air around it in a violent show of power it made Shiro’s spine shiver.

 

The heavy metallic end of the weapon caught Shiro around the leg, throwing him around like a rag doll. Despite his tiny stature, the commander was strong, and his movements where nimble and fluid like flowing water. The way he jumped around the arena avoiding the scythe and weaponized arm to kick and punch and push reminded Shiro of a break-dancer he saw once in a subway station in Tokyo.

 

Shiro pinned the boy beneath him, raising his archaic weapon to slice his neck, waiting for Sendak's signal. He looked down into those young slit eyes and felt a pang in his heart that sent sparks of sorrow and hesitation shooting throughout his body.

 

“Kill me, and you will have your freedom.”

 

Shiro looked down at the boy in confusion. Long ago his helmet had been tossed, and his cape ripped, he was only in the glory of his body armor – clad in slits of glowing purple ‘v’ like gills painted across the front in black.

 

_Voltron, voltron, voltron_

 

“What do you desire?”

 

“I want to go home.”  


“Then kill me, and you will have that and more.”

 

Shiro brought his blade down, closing his eyes, praying that when he opened them he would be back on green planes of wild grass, sitting on cotton sheets, watching the sunrise over the mountains.

 

He opened his eyes, and below him was the bleeding grin of a child. His eyes no longer glowed, his skin lost its sickly purple hue – he was only a boy.

 

Disappointment welled in the eyes of the boy. Shiro rose from his place on the floor, leaving his weapon buried into the metal floor by the boy’s head.

 

All was silent. Sendak rose from his bench and looked down at Shiro with a sickly scowl. Around him the entire room went silent. Aliens looked down at the two with confusion.

 

The boy – the captain, the competitor, rose from his position on the floor and drew up his electrified whip.

 

Shiro heard it crackle and whistle through the air and wrap itself around his abdomen. The volts that ran through his body released a terrible scream from his own throat. And he screamed, screamed, screamed, until the noise drown itself in blood.

 

Shiro couldn’t help but feel relieved.

 

\--

 

Shiro was getting really tired of waking up.

 

No matter how he moved, blinked, breathed: something hurt.

 

He wasn’t in his normal, bland cell. He was sat up against the wall, cuffed to a pipe. Sitting in front of him was a dark shadow and fear spike up Shiro’s chest as his muffled brain registered the cloaked stranger as Haggar.

 

The witch sat up, too slack, too relaxed. Everything seamed off, the room around his was too wide and proper, it was warm and the distant sound of the ship humming was muted unlike it is in the prison ward so very close to the engines. The scent of blood did not linger here like it did elsewhere, the walls where white like clouds, pristine like a hospital ward.

 

“Good, you’re awake.” Said the hooded figure.

 

Shiro’s nerves begged him to come fully into consciousness, the room cleared. From his vantage point on the floor, it didn’t make much difference.

 

“Your reputation precedes you, Champion.” Said the silky smooth voice, leaking small hints of adolescence. “When I heard of all your accomplishments, I had to come see you for myself.”  


Something was lifted to Shiro’s mouth. At first he refused on instinct closing his lips tight and pulling his head back.

 

“Relax, it’s water.”

 

Water? He hadn’t tasted water since he’d been taken, the Galra didn’t need to substance like they did, they forced quintessence into him like they where pumping him full of drugs. He hadn’t tasted water, real food, in ages.

 

“I promise it’s not poisoned.”

 

Shiro went out on a limb and let the mystery person water him, and he drank greedily.

 

“Who are you?” Shiro said between gasps.

 

“The names Lance.”

 

\--

 

They boy had tried to get himself killed; a mercy killing is all it would have been. He claimed that it was a test to Shiro’s true nature, but they both knew Lance just saw a way out and wanted to take it. Fate dictated that death was not the boy’s path just yet, and between himself and Zarkon, Shiro got disturbingly close with the Galra.

 

He spent many nights by Lance’s side, talking, eating, admiring. He was a pet more than a leader, taken from wherever he was from at a young age and raised as Zarkon’s exotic prize. He was the only human yet he seamed like anything but. His eyes glowed red, artificially. Faded deep blue pupils hid behind the distracting film.

 

Lance had a sense of humor very far from his appearance. Most often he looked sharp and threatening; in his full uniform he looked like a force to be reckoned with and Zarkon took zero liberties training him to be just as deadly. But he talked like a horny teenager, and they way he carried himself when it was just Shiro around was like he was still a spazzstic 12 year old child.

 

When they sparred, there was barely an opening in his stance, unless he wanted there to be. The captain was quick with his wit and a deadly shot, he had devious plan after devious plan that he often used to toy with Shiro like a cat would a mouse. Lance used him as an opportunity to gain experience and better his skills.

 

Shiro had come to treat him as a friend; it was comforting for the both of them to have another human around. He had done so much for Shiro, pulling him away from Sendak and holding him close. Shiro walked about the ship on a long leash, he got to know every corner and dead end, but never returned to the prison ward. But they where never destined to stay for long.

 

Shiro learned just how much Zarkon enjoyed his pet, how Lance would come to spar with the champion already covered in bruises. He always looked tired, beaten, broken.

 

Every morning, hooded attendants would find him in his room and help him but on his armor, polish his blade and clean his gun. They knew every notch on Lances’ body and guided him from his room like he was a prisoner. At night they would dismantle the armor and clean their master. Lance was desensitized to this, it had been happening his whole life and he suspected it would happen until he got too old for Zarkon to enjoy.

 

The twelfth night of the captain taking Shiro under his protective wing, things changed.

 

Lance came to Shiro’s upgraded bunker, dressed in armor never seen before. Blue-ish black, softer looking armor close to a body suit, with nothing but his gun at his side, and a hood drawn over his face that was a spotless shuddering silk of blue and black. He looked elegant and beautiful and he had descended upon Shiro like a clipped angel, ready to fly.

 

Together they cut through legion of Galra robots, spit in Sendak’s ugly mug, and stole away to the cargo bay, taking half the ship’s systems with them.

 

“This will take you home.” Lance had instructed, practically tossing his elder into the cockpit of a Galra fighter, “I made sure the ship was as close to earth as I could make it. I’ll distract Sendak as much as I can but you have to run, this may be your only opportunity, take it and don’t look back.”

 

“What about you.”

 

Lance had shaken his head, smiling back. “I still have to roast the shit outta Zarkon. I can’t leave, there’s no life for me out there.”

 

Then he handed Shiro a backpack, small enough for a child of three or four. On the front it was covered with stars and constellations.

 

“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. Tell them to stop looking.” Then he grabbed Shiro’s metal arm with delicacy and plugged an alien USB under his elbow joint, tapping it once to ensure stability. “Find Voltron. These are quoordinants that will take you exactly where you need to go.”

 

And then he was gone; reduced to a retreating face behind a thin sheet of glass, watching Shiro’s ship disappear into the black.

 

\--

 

The best thing about being back on earth wasn’t what Shiro expected. It wasn’t that he could touch Keith again, hold his friend close and finally allow himself to cry, it wasn’t that he could shed the skin-tight flight suit and rough silks he wore with the Galra, it wasn’t the feeling of breathing genuine oxygen; it was seeing the sunrise again. It was sitting on the front porch of Keith’s dumb little shack in the desert, feeling the cool morning air wash over his tired body and watch the warm sun climb into view and shed it’s light onto everything it’s rays could touch.

 

He sat on the little rocking chair on the porch for what felt like ages, watching the sun - their sun - rise over familiar cracked rocks and allow his body to experience the change in time. In his hands was the little backpack Lance had handed him, he was afraid to look in it he felt like it would be trespassing.

 

_“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. Tell them to stop looking.”_

“It’s good to have you back.”

 

_“Find Voltron. These are qoordinants that will take you exactly where you need to go.”_

 

Keith pulled a plastic lawn chair onto the deck and sat next to Shiro, not saying anything else.

 

“It’s good to be back.”

 

After a painfully long silence, Keith placed his hand on Shiro’s shoulder and the man turned his head to look at his long lost friend. “What happened out there?”

 

“I can’t – “ Shiro closed his eyes tight, willing his mind to stop racing.

 

“It’s ok if you can’t talk about it, yet.”

 

“No, I can’t remember.” Shiro hissed, mostly to himself. His metal arm whirred as it clutched the tiny pack, coming so close to ripping the fabric.

 

_“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. Tell them to stop looking.”_

_“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. **Tell them to stop looking**.”_

Who said this to him? Whose backpack this? And what is voltron, _voltron, **voltron**_.

 

Shiro clutched his head, willing himself to remember something, anything that could help. Nothing, nothing except a child’s voice, beautiful blue eye’s shrouded in purple. Rooms full of white and black, someone making him promise not to forget and here he was doing just that.

 

“I need to do something, will you help me?”

 

“Anything.”

 

\--

 

The road to Hawaii was not easy. Shiro was a government secret at the least, a dead man walking. Every one knew his face from the missing persons news, missing from the biggest earth space mission in recent history.

 

Keith stole a fighter jet from the galaxy garrison. He promised Shiro it wasn’t his first time and they both laughed, he told Shiro he tried to go after him and neither of them made a noise. It hit Shiro like a ton of bricks: he’d been gone, he’d gone missing and he left Keith here to rot. All the nights he’d spent bleeding on cold Glara floors, all the leisure he took and Keith was back on heart pulling every hair from his head trying to find Shiro again.

 

He’d almost had a panic attack but he pushed it down, pushed the memories away and held the backpack close as the two friends flew in silence across the country and over the ocean to reach Shiro’s mystery mission. Seeing Hawaii float over the horizon on soft waves sparked something in Shiro’s gut, the sun rose over the luxury island and the soft back side beach Keith brought the jet down onto, disturbing the sand and blowing on the clear water.

 

He unbuckled himself from his seat and was first out onto the warm beach, taking it all in in one deep breath, clutching the child’s back pack with one artificial fist.

 

_“Tell them to stop looking.”_

 

His eyes wandered past the magnificent forest leaking out onto the beach that retreated further onto the island, he could see the beginnings of a town creeping in the background, old wood roofs and rusted shacks lined the beach. This place was untouched by time and unbothered by the whirring gear of the garrison.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Keith asked, trying to hide the giant, stolen garrison jet with leafs.

 

“No.” Shiro responded with confidence. “But I know it’s something I have to do.”

 

Keith looked at his friend, his brother, with lingering concern and gratitude. He missed Shiro with every strand of his being, he didn’t care if they where chasing a wild goose, he was happy to be breathing alongside him again.

 

As they approached the town, both realized just how unfit they where for this place. Everyone looked calm and adjusted; light colored clothes and exposed skin around every corner, happy looking shops and content sunbathers on every street. The two of them immediately struck caution into ever passing persons face, trying to find someone who would answer their questions was like trying to catch a jellyfish. Asking estranged locals where Lakewood Drive was proving to be completely impossible, everyone either turned away from them or claimed not to know with eyes turned downwards and content aura’s toned down as they trampled by.

 

Twenty wasted minuets went by without a single result. Keith started to doubt this place existed, started to doubt Shiro, wondering if this was a good idea at all, if Shiro was delusional or sane. Shiro, on the other hand, wondered the same. His head ached with longing for this… _thing_ he found himself chasing after to be over. But some invisible, faceless voice chanted onwards at the back of his head, some foggy expression looked down at him from behind cloaked shadows and beckoned him onwards. Something felt wrong, ever steps felt stolen, every breath a lie, every sight an illusion. He kept waiting for the Galra to appear around a corner kept waiting for that voice to gain an identity but all stayed earthly and all stayed a mystery.

 

That was until a little hand came out of the shadow and tugged at his belt from behind. Shiro twirled around, greeted by a monotonous little face gazing up at him with secret wonder. Something in Shiro’s heart flattered. It was a child with a angry look on his innocent face, a face the stirred up some familiarity with Shiro, but he still couldn’t put all the pieces together. He let out a long breath and smiled down at the kid, he didn’t smile back.

 

“You scared me there, little guy.” The kid made no movement. Shiro paused, giving an equally confused Keith a look. A thought popped into his head, “do you know something? Do you know what we’re looking for?”

 

The boy nodded. Shiro leaned down to be on eye level with the boy, taking on the younger's seriousness. “Can you take us there?”

 

A pause, the kid reached out with a nervous, sticky hand and grasped Shiro’s metal forefinger with no hesitation to its danger or of that of the two strangers. He took off in a little run, dragging Shiro behind him.

 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Keith whispered, trotting along.

 

“No.” replied Shiro, looking down at the back of the little kids head and wondering why it looked so heart breakingly familiar. “But it’s something we have to do.”

 

\--

 

The kid led them through town, down a long spiraling road that led through part of the forest, creatures and bugs alike buzzed around them, watching their parade through unfamiliar grounds until the road turned to dirt and the trees faded back into sand. A barely populated section of the beach revealed itself, only a single group of people stood on the sand, all wearing their swim suites, playing volleyball around a homemade net, laughing together without any other thought in the world.

 

A hazy pizza shack sat not too far away with a large man fanning himself sitting on its porch, reading a magazine and minding the children. He saw the three travelers come garbling up the street and gathered himself up with a glare in their direction. He folded the magazine and walked inside.

 

On the opposite side a medium sized beach house melded with the island. It was worn with rotting wood and age old paint peeling off the walls. Dirty windows lined with plants of varying sizes and shaped faced out towards the ocean and the warm day. It must have been in the middle of summer – all the windows where open, linens dried on a line. An older lady attended them, her skin a soft, young brown.

 

The little boy let Shiro’s hand be free and ran to the older lady. She turned to him, setting down the laundry basket and embracing him with pure care and kindness. He buried his face in her shoulder and said something in urgent toddler speak, she frowned and looked down her driveway.

 

Shiro and Keith came up over the final stretch of the hill, both slowing their pace out of politeness. She looked out to them with guarded eyebrows nit together, she drew the younger boy behind her back. The large man from the shake came trekking up the other hill, stopping to take in the awkward scene, looking out at the trespassers with the same warning eyes.

 

Wind blew gently between them all, Keith scooted closer to the taller man beside him, unsure how to move next. Shiro was lost, his mind raced with questions and curiosity at his own crusty memory. Little bursts of moments ran past his minds eye; he blinked and they were gone. Laughter, pain, promises, a voice so distant it was less than a whisper, a face too familiar painted itself across these others with the littlest differences and Shiro knew, somehow, this was where he was meant to go.

 

Slowly, he took the child’s pack off his shoulder and walked forward, the women’s eye strained to focus on the man and his possession. As he got closer and closer, close enough to hear her labored breath – she began to shake. Her eyes shifted from slanted and protective to wide and feared. The larger man began to rush forward to her. She collapsed on the ground with one glace at the backpack; the younger boy and the large man ready with arms out to hold her. Shiro knelt, instinct kicking in, one cold hand pressed itself onto the stranger women’s shoulder, she looked from the abandoned back pack up to Shiro’s concerned gaze; tears started to flow uncontrollably from her eyes, and when she spoke immense pain over flowed from her elderly tone.

 

“You found him.”

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold tight whatever it is you hold dear, as the edge of the water approaches your toes on the beach, darkness eluding to the end. Hold tight whatever it is you hold dear, so in the end, when the darkness comes, there is no chance of them escaping you, and no chance of you letting go.
> 
> The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a half update like a transition chapter of sorts. It's a short one, but next update we'll start getting into the nitty gritty action, rescue, and meet Pidge and Allura!
> 
> also just a little FYI: one, Spanish is my second language, I'm bad at accents and my computer doesn't turn exclamation points upside down. Two, in this au, the paladins are naturally drawn to each other the way they are drawn to their lions, which you'll learn more about later so. STAY TUNED and thanks to everyone who's on board so far!
> 
> ***IMPORTANT EDIT  
> In the original, Lance was 5 when he was taken but I updated it so he was 12. this is important to know if you've already read this chapter b/c it'll effect the timeline later on

 

 

 The McClain family gathered in their tiny kitchen. Ten children of varying shapes and sizes cluttered around the old island; the young boy joined a little girl of the same age: Sofia and Jessie, huddled close with eyes locked on some invisible point on the floor. An older boy, Jared, maybe around 20 or so with long curly brown hair and dried tears on his cheeks grasped hands with a young women, Aria, of like appearances, her hair tied up in a bun, a sundress resting over her fit body as she sat on the island and peered at Shiro and Keith with sorrow. A more professional looking women in casual business dress, introducing herself as Rosa, set apart from the others with her arms crossed and a perplexed glare set into her brow. The two parents held each other in tight embrace, one listening intuitively, the other lost in her own world of grief and shock – Maria and Cassandra. Another older women had joined them at some point and was sitting in the only bar stool with her vacant and unimpressed crinkled eyes starring directly into Keith’s soul – only known as Abuelita. Two men stood at the back of the crowd, their heads peaking out over the others; one a larger man with less resemblance to the others – Hunk, the neighbor - the man from the shack down by the water, the other a lanky, odd looking human with a bushy black mustache and angry eyes – Jesus.

 

“His name was Lance.” Said Maria, her loose green shirt being used as a snot rag. Tears flowed like the ocean tides from her gentle eyes. “He was only 12 when he disappeared.”

 

“12 years and 5 days.” Corrected the other mother, Cassandra, her tone trampled with guilt.

 

Everyone was silent for a long moment, all taking it in with heavy hearts, letting memories dance of happier times. The eldest boy lifted his head and looked Shiro in the eyes, his posture and military tone commanding respect. “He was just a boy. It was the rain season, we had a particularly terrible storm one night, so bad the whole family was forced to our tsunami shelter on the hill.” Everyone clenched as they remembered.

 

“Lance was jittery, more than usual. He demanded we stay at the house, at some point he tried to run away and go down to the beach. The way he struggled, it was like he was in physical pain, the screaming – “ Jared cringed and Shiro felt called to stand, he reached out and put a hand on the strangers shoulder.

 

“Something called him out onto the beach that night.” Whispered Abuelita, the one who had yet to say a word. When she spoke her voice wavered, toiling a storm of its own in the room, her eyes narrowed onto Keith with aggressive intensity as if she was accusing him of something. “Something pulled him there. Whatever it was, it will never be our destiny to understand it. Whatever it was it took him, it left nothing behind.”

 

“The beach was decimated when we woke up in the morning.” Continued Jared, “the shack was destroyed, the water had risen all the way to the cliff and the house was in tatters. It was like we happened upon a war zone.”

 

Shiro lifted the pack to one of the mothers. “This was his, wasn’t it."

 

No one moved to take it from him, as if they were afraid it was cursed.

 

“You know where he is, don’t you.” Came the sudden peep of the youngest child, Sofia, her head titled back to look up at him.

 

Shiro was at a loss of words. He knew, he had to know. But still, it was distant, he was afraid to speak anything to this family, they where broken enough as it was already. He could see just how far their little brothers’, sons’, grandson’s loss cut them. Could he really look any of them in the eye and tell them, as bits and pieces of his shattered memory with this boy – Lance – came back to him? Could he tell the little boy who had the courage and conicsouse to lead them here that his older brother had been beaten in front of his eyes? Could he tell Lance’s mothers that he had watched their son kill in cold blood, that he aided – against his will – the growth of a bloodthirsty alien race hell bent on power?

 

He was going to have to tell them that their son was kidnapped and raised by aliens, hundreds of thousands of light years away. Could he?

 

“I – yes. I know where Lance is.”

 

“Tell us, boy.” Urged the women who had collapsed on the front lawn, her hands shaking as she reached out for him. “Tell us where our Lance is.”

 

Shiro looked over at Keith and took a stumbling step back. He took in the frightened and hopeful faces of all of Lance’s family and suddenly pictures started appearing in the back of his head; pain, laughter, blood, Glara, Voltron, Lance, the arena, champion, Zarkon, Voltron, Lance _Lance_ **_Lance_**.

 

Keith put a hand on his shoulder and gave him an encouraging nod. There was no way around this. “I don’t know how to tell you all this, and it’s hard to believe, I know, I didn’t believe it myself either, but it’s the truth.” He took a deep breath and looked to the floor. “Lance was taken by an alien race hell bent on destroying the universe called the Galra Empire.”

 

The room held its breath, Shiro felt a ghost pain ride up his tech arm and he waited for the shouting and disbelief to rile up, but it never did – everyone remained deadly quiet.

 

“But why?” Said the large man in the back, his voice laced with youth despite his size. “What would aliens want to do with Lance?”

 

“Wait.” Spoke up Keith for the first time since they’d arrived. “You actually believe us?

 

“Of course.” Said Abulita, almost angrily. “This family has always been believers, since the day the Garrison tried to clear up that alien attack 16 years ago as an asteroid shower. Nothing would have made Lance act the way he did on that night, it makes more sense that some regular kidnapping. Jared knows this.”

 

“I worked for the Garrison.” Said the older boy, the one called Jared. “I know their lies, and I couldn’t stand for them.”

 

“Don’t think we don’t recognize you from the news, Takashi Shirogane.” Popped up a deeper voice from the back, the lanky man with the bushy mustache squinted his eyes at him. “We knew there was no way yours and those other poor souls disappearance was due to pilot error.”

 

“I see them at night!” cried the little boy, a miniaturized version of Lance. “The stars, they move!”

 

“We’re trying to say we believe you, Takashi Shirogane. We’re with you.”

 

“And we’re grateful to you, for bringing hope back to us.”

 

Something in Shiro’s chest swelled, a smile crept its way onto his face and his hands balled into fists out of excitement. The truth would never be covered easily, the Galra may have been thousands, but the McClain family standing before this experienced soldier instilled the kind of pride one might feel towards accomplished cadets – and they were ready to face the front lines.

 

“So what’s the plan, then?” asked the big man, Hunk. “Are you going after him?”

 

Shiro didn’t respond; he was lost in thought. Possibility, error and risk consumed his mind – how were they going to do this? Shiro knew what he had to do – he had to find Voltron, stop the Galra, put an end to all this for the sake of earth and the thousands of others who’s lives were lost to their evil rein.

 

 _Zarkon_.

 

Hatred flamed in his gut. He couldn’t look the young boy in the eyes, knowing that their Lance – the Lance they lost – would not be the same one returned to them, if that was ever a reality. Keith looked over at him instead. With his lips pursed into a thin line: he nodded.

 

“Then I’m coming with you.”

 

“Hunk, no!” cried Maria, her voice quavering. “You can’t leave us, we need you!”

 

“Lance needs me, Shiro and his friend need me. This is my chance, I’ve been a coward all my life and now my one chance to be a hero is literally standing in my kitchen.”

 

Keith smiled awkwardly, feeling the pressure and only mild anger from the family directed at him and Shiro.

 

“I can’t let you, Hunk. We don’t know we’re up against and to be honest with you, we really don’t have a single clue what we’re doing.” Shiro turned to hunk, his eyes turning dark and serious, his attention focused solely on him. “If you do this, I can’t be responsible with what might happen to you.”

 

Hunk paused along time; Shiro could see the boy holding back tears, clenching his fists, mentally and physically in turmoil. He nodded, “I understand.”

 

“!Dios Mio!” came the frustrated and aggravated cry from Rosa, her hands thrown up in disbelief, her eyes glaring holes into everyone, her accent slightly heavier. “Are you out of your mind, all of you? Alien abduction, crazy plans, universal domination? I was ok with everyone making it up at first because I thought you where just grieving, but this?” she shook her head angrily. “This is insane.”

 

“Rosa, please.” Hunk cried. “Don’t do this now. Why else do you think they would show up, how do you think they found Lance’s backpack?”

 

“I don’t know,” she hummed, shoving past Shiro and Keith toward the front door. “You can do whatever the hell you want, I don’t want any part of it.” And with that she slammed the door and disappeared down the driveway.

 

Shiro and Keith turned back to the rest of the McClain’s, tension in their shoulders, unsure how they would react now.

 

“Hunk, better go pack.” Said grandma, gathering her tiny, elderly self out of the bar stool with a heaving breath. “Jessie and Sofia will help you.”

 

The two children squealed with delight and all three ran off to a tiny door past the kitchen and into the next section of the house. “Maria, Cassandra, Jesus, make them some food for the road.”

 

“You don’t have to do that.” Shiro pleaded, letting a smile slither onto his lips.

 

“No, it is the least that we can do.” Abulita grinned up at him, “you brought hope back to us, for that, we can never truly thank you.”

 

The rest of them left the kitchen, meandering around, talking, Jared and Aria left to the front lawn, sitting amongst the drying laundry and warm climate. Shiro and Keith awkwardly watched Abulita meander her way, painfully slowly, to the other side of the kitchen were she ruffled around in a little woven bag, letting receipts and other papers fall out onto the floor. Out of the bag she grasped something small and delicate, holding the object in her hand like a small child would cradle an injured bird. She wobbled back over the Shiro and extended her hand to him; opening her fist she revealed a little charm on the end of a long chain, it was a sand dollar clasped inside a round glass locket with a picture stuck to the back.

 

“Find Lance, give him this. Tell him we count the stars for him.” Shiro and Abulita shared a moment, each looking to each other for support, each with their hands resting on the locket, thoughts and memories of Lance whirling around their brains.

 

“Shiro, it’s time to go.” Keith said, his voice a soft hum like the beat of a birds wing, with Hunk standing next to him, geared and ready to set off.

 

Standing in the driveway, looking back at the McClain family bid goodbye to their friend was heart breaking in it’s own respect, to both Shiro and Hunk. Hunk, on his part, was in tears; he embraced all of the people standing before him with gusto, when he got to the children they all began to shed tears of some sort. Even Shiro, an outsider, was holding back the overflow of emotions held at bay for his own protection for so long. Hunk turned his back on his family, with his head down, and joined Keith as their new trio began the trek to their new destiny, waiting just beyond the atmosphere – waiting, watching, planning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for this guys kill me


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge wakes up that morning, her laptop slipping out of her grip and headphones hanging off her head. The buzzing of a phone she forgot she had, buried under her mattress, shook her into awareness. She flipped the old burner phone open, putting it up to her ear and just waiting. 
> 
> "Hey Pidge. We need your help with something super weird."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What. The . FUCK. Is .  
> Wrong . With . Me???!?!?? 
> 
> I'm soooko sorry! I haven't updated this in a year! Holy shit. I have no good excuse. I had this chapter written but I kept changing it and I was too lazy to beta it.... ugh! 
> 
> Anyways...,,,

 

 

    The walk back to the beach was almost painful. The sound of Hunk trying to stifle his whimpers mixed with the peaceful aura of the island made everything a million times harder than it needed to be, multiplied with the weight of their situation and the mountain they now faced - it made it all that much easier to give up, but they couldn't.

That was maybe the hardest part of it all, holding the truth close to their chests that they really did not have the luxury of giving up. They relied on each other now, and they had no one but themselves to complete this mission and without it there was a possibility the universe as they knew it could crumble. It's a lot to bear for two teenagers and a twenty four year old ex-captive with as much gusto left in him as a chewed wad of gum. But still, they at least had to try. 

When they reached the other side of the beach, the sun was boding it's final goodbye before dipping below the waves; the stolen garrison ship luckily remained untarnished and safely hidden, to save time and energy, the three new comrades hunkered down on the beach for the night. Hunk even made a small fire pit, so as to assure they all had something warm to stare into throughout the night. 

"So what now." Questioned Hunk, creating a sort of bed with the sand and his back pack.

Hunk looked to Keith then to Shiro, and keith looked to Shiro, and Shiro sat motionless looking at the fire as if it had all the answers. Shiro brought his hand up out of the sand, the bionic one whose gears whirred with wear and sand. 

"Lance gave me information." He mumbled, to himself more than to the others. "Quordinants of where to find him, or to find Voltron."

Hunk scoffed and shook his head, he continued with sarcasm as he scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. "That's like him. Looks like he had a plan already laid out for us. Good thing too, I was starting to get the impression neither of you knew what to do."  
Keith and Shiro swallowed back a uncertain giggle and chose not to worry the worrisome bear of a man any further. 

"Yes, well." Shiro continued, clearing his throat. "The only problem is I have no idea how to access it. This is alien technology, human technology escapes me at the best of times." 

"I would say I could help you with that." Replied hunk, "but I can't. I may know someone who can, though."

"Who." Demanded Keith, his scraggly voice speaking up for the first time. Hunk looked over at him and his eyes screamed with doubt, he brought his hand to his chin and rubbed it as if to give off the impression he was thinking. He glanced at Shiro, who was still out of his head, and sighed. 

"She's called Pidge." Hunk explained, fishing for something in his backpack. "We were in the garrison together a long time ago, but after the Kerberos mission I dropped out, we lost contact but." 

  
He retrieved a burner phone from the bottom of the pack, and held it up like a prize. "She always told me if I need her help I could find her with this." 

"This seems a little sketchy." Keith suggested, both of them searched Shiro for answers. The older man sighed, nearly groaned, and stood. 

"We don't have much of a choice." He said, and Hunk looked excited - either about being right or getting to see his friend, perhaps both. "If this 'Pidge' can help us with alien technology she may be the only person on earth, we can't ignore her."

Hunk jumped up from the sand with the burner in hand, promising Shiro a million successes and flipped it open like it was the best thing to happen to him all day. He sauntered off with the phone to his ear and left Shiro and Keith to their own. Shiro sat back down, scooting closer to his younger companion, throwing his arm around Keith's tense shoulders and pulling his close. 

"You good?" Shiro asked, yet they both knew the question should be deterred elsewhere.

"Yeah. It's all happening so fast, but I'm good." 

Shiro smiled and nodded, sitting back and allowing himself to relax. He had always wanted to go to Hawaii, he'd heard it was beyond amazing; and it was. He looked out over the tan-white sands that stretched into dense green forests, leaves of trees littered the beach alongside seashells and microscopic sea creatures skittering about around them. The water came up to meet the sand in the smoothest waves, like watching hot Honey roll over a piece of bread. It was blue, like the sky had melted, pink and yellow and red where the sun shed its day time skin and succumbed to the lukewarm waters of oasis, resting her bright head for the night - the ocean glowed in its diminishing light. 

"You really think we're going to find this Lance guy?" Keith asked shiro, tenderly, trying not to suspend his full uncertainty at once. Shiro, breaking Keith's expectation, did not reply immediately, he didn't jump on the chance to be positive or inspiring. He just looked down at the sand and at his broken, stolen hand and sorrow cemented itself in his far away eyes. 

"I don't know." He whispered, "I hope so." 

Whoever Lance was, Keith felt a growing excitement to encounter him. He was imagining a strong and valiant leader, with as much gusto as a god and as much a man as Shiro.

But in this case, hope was more powerful than the truth, even when far enough away to feel untraceable the simple thought of the thing instilled at least a little more certainty about a situation, or perhaps less, but it ensured effort. At this point, good effort and help was what they really needed. They could figure out the complicated stuff later, but taking it one step at a time was essential and the longer Keith spent with this Shiro the more he realized that the grand he leader he thought he was was just a scared kid dressed as an adult who looked like he knew what he was doing - just taking it one step at a time. 

"Shiro." Keith began, nervously digging his heel into the sand, "I-I missed you a lot, I kind of fell apart and - look, I don't want to be selfish I just want to know what happened out there - " 

Shiro held up his human arm to stop Keith from saying anything more, anything damaging to either. "I can't talk about it, Keith. I wish I could, I just can't remember."

Keith was silent for a moment, trying to decide to push or to settle with what he got. Which, in hindsight wasn't anything at all. "Ok." He muttered, pulling his legs up to his chest.

Hunk came skittering back from the forest, the sand skipping and squeaking under his large boots. A smile wider than the sun spread across his face.

"I got a hold of Pidge. As soon as she heard 'alien technology' she said she'd be here by the morning. Didn't even let me finish talking, actually." He sighed and sat on the sand beside the two strangers.

"We might as well get some rest while we wait." Shiro concluded, lifting himself up as soon as Hunk sat, brushing sand off his pants. "I'm gonna sit up and look out with the ships radar. You too should sleep."

The older Man, troubles so clearly painted across his face in brilliant colors of misery, didn't let either companions a word before retreating to the open cabin of the stolen pod, disappearing inside. Keith screwed his mouth into wayward worry, knitting his eyebrows together to create one grand scowl. Hunk took a deep breath, looking back at this guy he literally met less than an hour ago that was now intwined in his own fate.

"Want a sandwich?"

 

\--

 

_The screaming was like white noise, plastered into the cracks in the walls around him, coming from every direction and none at all. At this point he couldn't tell if he was imagining the squeals or if they were his own. Death clamped his jaws around his shoulders and gnawed away at rotting flesh._

_Strike, strike them down - and champion they chant for you to live. So live._

_Deaths jaws turned into soft hands shaking him awake from a nightmare within a nightmare. His eye parted as his lips did in a yelp, lurching foreword from sitting position by Lance's bed._

_"You're scaring me, Shiro." Lance whispered, the words flowing from his bruised lips like stars from the Milky Way. Oh heaven help that monster, Zarkon, for his cruelty to the spirit of the ocean. Shiro reached for his friend in horrors._

_"You're scaring me, Shiro." Lance began again, his eyes drooping as bags formed beneath them under the stress of a time-lapse of death. Shiro looked down, seeing his mechanical arm coated elbow deep in slick blood, dropping onto silk. Lance's tender smile bled into exposed bone as Shiro watched his friends skin peel away until he was nothing but a skeleton in an endless war._

Shiro woke with a small jolt, a spark of adrenaline that clicked his brain back into motion. A moment later the sogginess of the nightmare caught up to him - the sweat at his neck and the lethargy in his limbs came back to him like a boulder crushing him. Groaning, the man stretched, trying desperately to wipe away the evidence of fear from his face. Looking out the window of the cockpit he saw the sun slowly shedding itself along the horizon, clearing the night away as well.

Inhaling a great breath of Leadership, he exited the ship and, much to his surprise, found Keith sitting hip - to - hip with Hunk as the two were bent over Hunk's smart phone looking through pictures of Hunk's cooking, of his family and of Lance. Most to Shiro's shock, Keith seemed comfortable; there was a smoldering fire carved into the sand in front of them, and a few half eaten foods strewn about, and Keith was smiling.

At least someone had a good night.

"Good morning." Keith hummed, and Shiro nodded back taking a moment to stretch.

"Any idea of when your secret informant will arrive, Hunk?" Shiro yawned, trying to clear the scratch from his throat.

"Well, I'm no expert but." The larger boy stood, squinting against the rising sun. "I would say about now."

Both Keith and Shiro looked out to the sea, watching as a nearly silent, very broken hover shuttle came sputtering from the shadow of the sun, the side hangar door wide open with a very small, gremlin looking fashion disaster hanging out the side, peering down at them.

As they all got a clearer look at the person, Shiro felt an odd lump form in his throat. The kid stepped onto the sand, and the hover shuttle fluttered away again, leaving them all in awkward silence. Shiro was looking into the eyes of a carbon copy of _Matt_ \- his breath hitched, _Matt_.

The little - little - kid walked foreword, carrying a small pack on their back. She trotted to Hunk and the two exchanged a hug.

"Hey." The gremlin spoke, sounding nothing like Matt. "I'm Pidge."

"I'm Keith. This is Shiro."

They paused mid- handshake. Her eyes bounced onto the man a few feet away. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and squinted. "Like, the Shiro? The missing pilot?"

Shiro just nodded, not wanting to get into it again. But Pidge didn't push, she just gave a shrug and a nod.

"Not so missing anymore, I guess." Was the only insight she offered before moving on. "So, Hunk. Fill me in."

"You might want to sit down." Hunk offered as the four came together around the sizzling fire pit. "It's a long story."

 

-

 

"Let me get this all straight: Mr. space exploration over here was kidnapped by aliens who want to take over the universe and also have this other guy named Lance who everyone is just cool with eloping into space to rescue, except Keith who doesn't know why he's here, and you want me to access some sort of alien data stored in a murder-bot-arm to help you find this guy?"

"Don't forget about Voltron!" Keith added.

"Right." Pidge scoffed, "about that. I've been dabbling in some alien activity myself, using a long range satellite transmitter from the garrison I re-routed to scramble communications and I picked up on some alien radio chatter, most of which talk about some kind of deadly, world ending type weapon called Voltron. It's some sort of multiple part robot...thing. It must be super important because it's almost all they talk about out there."

"It is important." Shiro hummed, "and it is world ending."

They all sat silent for a moment. "So, does this mean we have to do something about it?"

"I guess." Said Hunk. "Well, while me and Keith were talking last night, he brought up some really weird conspiracy theory type stuff that I, at first, thought was just ridiculous Mumbo jumbo ' - hey - ' but! I looked closer and..." he pulled a map out of his pack that Keith had drawn on, a long path of rocks along a ridge close to where the angsty boy used to live, marked across a smaller world map where the anomaly occurred elsewhere.

"I was looking at the anomaly and it actually looks close to something that makes some sense. It's called a Fraunhofer line, and they show in a few different places most prominently in the desert and here, on this island." He closed the map, "it's actually part of the reason I wanted to stay here. I've been feeling something spooky ever since we all came together, and since Keith told me about the lines last night - I think it may have something to do with this whole alien thing."

The other three had paused in awe at Hunk, mostly Keith, who looked slightly used, and Shiro, who was just impressed.

Pidge's nerd ears perked after a moment of thought. "If you give me a moment, with your help Hunk I bet I could rig up a sort of detector for the kind of element it emits."

Keith and Shiro stepped aside as the two nerds dug through Pidge's Mary Poppins like bag of electronic goodies. In the mix of it all Shiro couldn't help but stare at Pidge, how much she looked like Matt before it clicked. She must be using Pidge as a cover name, and as much as Shiro was all about honor and honesty and the like, he decided not to blow the girl's cover just yet. For the next while, at least, the two could go on pretending they didn't know each other.

Sure enough, after what must be a record breaking time of nearly twenty minuets, the two had assembled a radar-like device and the four were off into the woods, following the mystery lines deeper into the forest. Several meters passed the beach, until they could no longer look behind them and see the ocean, nor barely look above them and see the sky through the mangled tropical canopy, Pidge stopped them all abruptly. Hunk removed the head phones connected to the device and looked about expectantly.

"I don't understand." Hunk said, lightly tapping the device as if that would make it work better. "We should be at the source but - there's nothing here."

It was true. Looking around them Pidge noted that while it felt like that had been walking for a couple of minuets it appeared they had walked far enough to be close to the main high way again, as she could hear the distant whir of cars. The others looked around in equal confusion, Keith momentarily suggested maybe something in their calculations was wrong but Pidge vehemently opposed. Shiro, slightly separate from the rest of them, was about to suggest they turn back and invest their time in something more concrete, like his arm, as he suggested in the beginning - when Hunk shifted his weight dramatically and the forest floor beneath his feet groaned like a creaking house. Pidge looked down, rather than looking up or around, and noticed the buoyancy of the ground beneath.

"Hold on." She demanded, calling everyone's attention on her, "we're not even standing on solid ground!"

Something called her, in that moment, to forget caution and just start bouncing and stomping on the bendy earth like it was a funhouse. As the ground beneath them all began to crackle and snap, Shiro was about to suggest she stop moving when the branches holding them up collapsed in on themselves and suddenly all four adventurers were plummeting to the ground below the ground, sliding on a giant mud wall directly down into the darkness.

Pidge screeched like a banshee, clinging to Hunk as they slid further and further down, Keith not too far behind them most likely enjoying himself, while Shiro ended up going head first down into the abyss, collecting mud as he went down. The black tunnel they found themselves in busted out into a giant cavern, tossing all of them nonchalantly onto the wet cave floor. Pidge groaned the loudest, still clinging to Hunk.

"I fucking hate nature." She hissed under her breath.

Just as Shiro was about to make a comment about her language, Keith gasped in disbelief and slapped Shiro on the arm. He looked up alongside the other two, and was greeted by a towering green beast - green like the field hovering around it and the vines protecting that. It was a robot, shaped like a cat. A giant cat robot, glaring down at them with dead eyes.

Keith approached it first, Pidge - who felt this odd pull to it - close on his heals. As his nose came close to the glowing green field, the Lion's eyes buzzed to life and a deep rumble built in it's chest; but otherwise, it refused to move. Pidge came up behind him, jaw slack in awe.

"This is incredible." Keith said, leaning to tap the field with one finger and pulling away as the touch created a ripple around the cat.

"It must be some sort of magnetically generated force field!" Pidge mused, placing two hands on the thing in wonder. As soon as she did, the great cat rose off his haunches and the field dissipated into thin air. Joints creaking like old wood and power, the enormous robot pawed a few steps foreword and released a earth-shattering road that rumbled the cave so violently rocks showered from the ceiling.

Hunk began screaming about getting eaten as the head lowered to the ground, jaw outstretched, but it's mouth settled right in front of Pidge and a draw ladder descended from it's bottom lip. Pidge looked over at Keith, who had fallen to his ass in the process. He just shrugged like he didn't know what to do, so Pidge just stood and cautiously marched into the lions mouth - trying to convince herself this was somehow really cool, And In all honesty it kinda was. She entered the head and walked pasted a small area to what looked like the cock pit of a ship. There was a very nice chair sitting in the center.

She called back to the others, "guys! It's not just a robot, it's a ship."

She took a risk and sat in the chair. As soon as she did, it jolted forward violently, and the dimmed cabin came to life - technology she had never dreamed off buzzed awake in front of her; glass displays, clear weapon boards, but still not nearly enough controls for a giant ship like this. There were two sticks out in front of her that she could barely reach and petals beneath the dash that were completely out of the question. She pretended not to notice as Shiro came stumbling in, Keith behind him pulling Hunk into view by his collar. The poor guy was on the verge of tears, and all of them were covered head to toe in mud. As soon as everyone was inside, the entrance closed tight and the head began to rumble. It jolted them all as it let out yet another great roar and began stretching it's haunches - Shiro, Keith, and Hunk were thrown into the cockpit behind Pidge, holding onto anything they could as the whole body shook and the floor fell away on the view screen. With one great leap, the beast launched into flight, and pounced at the earth ceiling.

By now, all of them were screaming, even Shiro. The lion burst through pure earth, shattering the ground around them and decimating the forest as well. It made to the sky with great leaps of joy, going faster than any of it's riders ever had before, at least not the one in it's pilots seat, who had never been behind the wheel of anything before. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she grabbed the two sticks in front of her, in no control as the other yelled at her to be.

"What the hell, Pidge?" Keith growled as the lion did another backflip, sending them all into disarray.

"I'm sorry!" She whined back, "I'm not in control - "

The head hummed around her, speaking straight through her mind, peaking into her heart.

_Be not afraid, little one. This is all as it is meant to be._

The cabin settled out, the ocean shrunk beneath them, become the islands, becoming the curve of the earth, becoming the earth. Until above them the expanse of space became nature. The screams died into baffled silence.

"Where are you taking us, Pidge?" Shiro asked.

"I'm not! I'm not in control - but it's talking to me. It's telling me I shouldn't worry." She let the vice grip on the control sticks release, and for a moment she relaxed back into the chair.

"The giant cat is talking to you?" Scoffed Keith, but his banter was cut off as Shiro elbowed him violently.

"You guys can't hear that?" Pidge waited for an answer that never came, but rather her question was received with curious silence. She secretly wondered if she was finally going insane. Pulled from her thoughts, she looked up and saw a great white surface passing on the right. Kurberos.

"It can't be." Hunk gawked. "It takes months for the garrisons fastest ships to get all the way out here, we got here in a couple of seconds."

The lion rumbled, like it was laughing in amusement, wasting no time in moving onto the next wonder. Before them, a giant circle parted the space around it, spreading into swirling blues and grays. It looked mystical, and threatening. To Pidge, the lion called them forward. It was some typed of portal.

"What is that?" Hunk gasped.

"I - I don't know." Pidge admitted, "but whatever it is, the lion wants us to follow it."

"Like heck!" Hunk squealed, "we just stumbled on this thing and now we're in space and the giant talking cat head wants us to go through some Star Trek looking shit?"

The others said nothing, but Pidge was determined to follow this to the end. "Shiro, technically you're the adult here. What should we do?"

The man was motionless for a long moment. Rumbling up something stuffed with responsibility; "whatever happens from here on out, we're a team now, that means we all have to agree on what we do next."

He looked to Keith, who nodded solemnly, and Hunk, who groaned, but ultimately agreed, "I guess I have nothing else going on." Finally, Pidge just shrugged, and as if in mutual consent the lion moved forward to the giant hole and was consumed by its gaping maw. As they went through it, behind them it collapsed, leaving no trace nor note.

 

                      --

 

A boy sat, looking out the window to the grand expanse of stars stretching for years before him. His reflection in the clear glass showed something beyond tired, his skin might as well melt off his skin. The circles under his eyes got darker as the days got longer. The cuff around his ankle hummed lowly, the bruised and charred skin reminding him what happens if he tries to run.

The door behind him slid open, standing in it was a tall and furry being, eyes hard as stone. Two white stripes followed the ears that sprouted from the sides of his head. There was a gun in his hand.

"Now is the time, paladin." It spoke.

Lance turned to him, a smile as devious as the devil split his tired cheeks.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not how the story was initially gonna go so make sure to let me know if you like it!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know what this is?” Kolivan called annoyance in his voice. Lance turned and shook his head. “This is the blue lion of Voltron - one piece of a legendary puzzle. They say that the blue lion can control water, spit ice, has a roar that could destroy entire fleet ships.” 
> 
> “I don’t get it.” Lance said, “What does this have to do with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think....this is what the kids call a filler?   
> I've gotten a lot of questions and I thought.....why drag it out (i'm lazy) ill just answer some of them right now (i'm lazy)
> 
> I've had a few people offer to beta for me so in the mean time of me trying to figure all that out.......pleas bear any mistakes I repeat myself a lot 
> 
> in other news, if you guys like my writing and are interested in any of my original works some of my short stories will soon be available on amazon! and you can follow me tumblr blog petersghost for updates and artwork   
> love you all

There was a lot that Lance did not tell Shiro. Looking back at it now, all the secrecy was maybe not ideal, but Lance tried to tell himself it was necessary – but again, there was little rational thought behind it. If Shiro knew he was the next black paladin, there was no telling what may happen. The lion could wake up, wherever it was, and without the rest of the lions or even the other paladins to back them, all it would do was land the black lion right back into Zarkon’s hands. That makes sense, right? That is why Lance never told Shiro anything about Voltron.

It is also why Lance never told the man where he went. He left it up to the champion’s imagination as to why the boy would leave for days on end, only to reappear covered in bruises and scratches. Lance thought Shiro would connect the dots eventually – he was a pet, after all. Just a pet, not a commander, not a captain, not a soldier – he was just Zarkon’s plaything. He had no real identity. All these years, Lance had lost track of them as they passed him by, he was being conditioned to _be_ Galra. They tried to stretch his ears, change his eyes, color his skin, and turn him into another killing machine for their entertainment. Zarkon had placed the boy on conquered planets around the galaxy, to show him that his power over him and the universe was no joke. Lance had to watch entire peoples be cut down by the millions, he had seen Zarkon and his witch’s power to suck the light from entire planets and killing everything on them rendering them nothing but cold rocks floating aimlessly.

Zarkon wanted to break Lance. For a while, he had done his job and done it well. The boy from earth was well and totally destroyed after just a year with the Galra; there was no light here, no kindness, no words ever spoken to him that were not bleeding with abuse and death. He had been beaten, forced to fight in the arena and eventually his skills were transferred to the battlefield.

 When he was only 14, Zarkon had fashioned him with his own suit of armor. It was cold, black armor with purple designs coating the arms, legs, and shoulders, and then he was plopped in the middle of a battle suppressing an uprising. Nevertheless, he couldn’t kill. He came face to face with a rebel, but he couldn’t pull the trigger. The two of them came to meet each other in a sea of war, one with a mask of tatters covering his face, and Lance, covered in muck and blood with tears rolling down his cheeks, screamed as he charged towards the other. They were equals in combat yet Lance was a mess of terror and eventually the two ended up squabbling in the mud until the rebel was on top of the boy with his knife placed at Lance’s throat and Lance’s gun at the Rebel’s head. Both waited for the other to make a move. Neither did.

Lance was drug from the battlefield by Galran sentries long after the battle had ended. He was lying in the mud, eyes starring up at the red sky, past the wispy clouds into the vast field of stars. The rebel left him alive, Lance wished to any god still listening that they had not. He was taken to high command where he was cleaned and presented to Zarkon wearing a band of metal around his head and a thin veil covering his face. It was then that things began to change – Lance was given his own room, separate and homier than the barracks he was kept in before. He was allowed to walk around the castle without a guard, and most importantly, he was given a title. He wanted none of it. The sentries called him captain and he was introduced to Sendak as his new commanding officer and Zarkons right hand man. He was required to attend Zarkon during meeting between his generals, and for a while, he was always by the monsters side dressed in armor unlike any others.

Then, he met Thace.

It was only a few weeks after the battle when the Galran showed up in his room. Lance was sitting on the ledge of the circular window on the farthest wall of his new room. The cushiony bed hadn’t been slept in, and armor was splayed about the floor. When the door slid, open Lance didn’t have it in him to turn and look; he assumed it was Zarkon or Sendak or another sentry come to patronize and abuse him. His arms, normally hidden by armor, were covered in bruises.

Thace approached him with kindness. He placed a hand on the human’s shoulder and briefly offered an apathetic smile. His eyes were yellow, expressionless, but his face reminded Lance of his history teacher back on earth – strong jawed, stern eyebrows, scruff gathered at his jawline. Something about his unexpected familiarity made Lance trust him.

“What is your name, boy?” Thace asked his voice gruff but gentle.

“Lance.” He responded through tears, shaking with fear.

“Lance.” Thace repeated back. It was the first time someone had said his name since he had been here and it sounded strange. “My name is Thace. I was sent to retrieve you.”

Lance straightened his back, curling away from the alien’s touch in defense. “Sent by who?”

“You will see if you choose to come with me. You have a choice, Lance.”

Lance considered him for a moment, looking into his yellow eyes for some glint of a lie but he found nothing. He felt unusually soothed by this Galra’s presents. He did not get too close, his hand was warm, and he spoke slowly, lightly, and with purpose. He seemed different from the rough and tumble aura that Lance knew of his species. Cautiously, Lance nodded and Thace grinned again.

“Good. Here, put these on.” Thace presented the small boy with a black body suit that had tints of blue on the shoulders, a thing white shirt to place over it, a belt with an odd blue and white device secured on it, and a long silk black hood with more blue designing it.

Lance took the clothes, and Thace stepped outside with the promise to wait.

Privacy: another oddity from this stranger.

Once he put on the clothes, he reflected on how different they felt – not restraining and difficult to move in, it seemed to fit perfectly to his body as if it was made specifically for him.

Thace was waiting for him outside as he promised. His stance had changed, his shoulder squared, gun drawn, expression hardened.

“Draw up the hood.” He commanded lowly. “Follow me.”

Lance did as he was told and was led through corridors he hadn’t discovered yet to the hangar where the two stole away in a private ship. Not once were they interrupted by guards, Lance chose not question their luck.

As they flew away, Lance fired off questions between long silences. He asked where they were going several times, tried to convince Thace to turn around and bring him back on the premise that Zarkon would notice his absence form high command – Thace assured him that the emperor would not, which sounded even more unusual. He asked why Thace was taking him away and got no answer, he tried to pry into who Thace was and was left with silence. In a matter of what felt like hours, all his questions were multiplied when their ship came up on an anomaly in space – it looked like two black holes colliding, between them a great swirl of blue shifted and twisted. They headed directly for it. Lance screamed for Thace to stop. He closed his eyes tight and curled up on the floor. He was ready to die.

He opened his eyes, stood, and looked out the window. Outside was a huge facility situated on a slice of rock floating perfectly centered inside the huge swirls of blue and white.

“Whoa.” Was all Lance could say.

They landed the ship just outside the entrance, and stepping off the ramp Thace kept Lance close to his side as they were greeted by two rows of what Lance assumed were soldiers dressed in robot-like armor, wearing black hoods and strange masks that covered all their face and head.

Thace ushered the two of them forward and into the facility where more soldiers dressed similarly awaited them. Down the line, standing slightly above the rest and unmasked was a Galran unlike what Lance was used to. The man looked more natural, with red markings on his face and a long white braid hanging down over his shoulder, but he looked no less angry. He looked down on Lance with disapproval; but there was another Galran, an older one covered in white fur, who looked almost proud.

“Kolivan, I brought the human. He is called Lance, from earth.” Thace introduced.

Lance lifted the silk hood away from his face, trying his best to stand strong in the face of all these strange aliens in this strange place. He expected to be killed, or taken hostage; he expected anything but what happened next.

“Is this the boy, Ulaz? This mouse?” spoke the one Thace called Kolivan. “He is only a child, and a small one at that.”

Lance wanted to be offended. He wasn’t given the chance, as the elder Ulaz stepped forward and approached him directly. He knelt down to be on eye level with Lance, another surprise from these strangers, willing to stoop to his level. He looked deep into Lance’s eyes for far too long, that Lance looked nervously up at Thace for reassurance but was given none. He did his best to maintain the prolonged and awkward eye contact until something clicked: he had seen this face before, on the battlefield. Then, it was half covered in brown rags, and it was looking down at him in his most vulnerable state as he wailed in torment from war. Lance took a few small steps back and brought his head up, clenching his fists and meeting the elder with a sterner, daring gaze. It did not have the intended effect, as the rebel chuckled lightly and stood to face what Lance presumed was his leader.

“The lion will respond.”

 

After a standing witness to a few uncomfortable looks exchanged between Thace, Ulaz, and the other Galran Lance was led away from the main area and farther into the building. He leaned to Thace and tried again to press him for answers but was only told to be quiet and wait, that all would be answered soon. He made it clear to the others - taller, stronger, and armed though they were – that he would not go down without a struggle even if it were futile. At the center of a group of them, like an escort, he was eventually brought to a huge hangar and presented to the feet of a colossal robot shaped like…a cat.

Lance titled his chin in awe, admiring the towering statue of power that sat back on its haunches before him. The others fell behind as he was superficially drawn towards the base of its giant paws by something unnatural, it was as if he was being called – he felt a low rumble, like a purr, deep in his chest. Around the beast like a bubble was a glowing honeycomb shield, shimmering with the purr.

Ulaz came up behind Lance with an amused smile painted across his face. “You seem fixated, mouse.”

“Do you know what this is?” Kolivan called annoyance in his voice. Lance turned and shook his head. “This is the blue lion of Voltron - one piece of a legendary puzzle. They say that the blue lion can control water, spit ice, has a roar that could destroy entire fleet ships.”

“I don’t get it.” Lance said, “What does this have to do with me?”

“Each of these great lions has a pilot: a paladin.” Kolivan continued. “There was a time when all of the lions – there are five – came together to form Voltron, the most powerful weapon in the galaxy. During this time, Voltron was a master a peace, but then Zarkon destroyed it. All of the lions were banished to avoid them falling into Zarkon’s hands, and the paladins were killed.”

“All but one: ” Ulaz interrupted, taking over Kolivan’s harsh tone with something like admiration, “the blue paladin stood up to Zarkon, although some stories say it was not the paladin but the lion itself that strode about the galaxy providing aid to planets as they were attacked by Zarkon’s armies. But, like all good things these days, the blue lion vanished. It seemed there was no hope.”

Lance looked between the two. “Cool. But…what does this have to do with me.”

“It is said that the paladins were not just pilots, but that they shared one mind with the lions and they didn’t pilot, but that part of them became the lion. We discovered this lion in a cave on earth during a secret patrol – so you can imagine when we heard there was an earthling all the way out here – “

“Whoa, hey -“ Lance pipped up between huffs of laughter, “you want me to – to pilot this thing? And do what with it exactly? Fight Zarkon! Are all of you out of your fuzzy minds?”

“I’m fourteen! You know how young that is in Galra years? Not a lot I’ll tell you.”

“The blue lion will only respond to its one true paladin.” Ulaz said placing a hand on Lance’s back and giving him a light push towards the shimmering blue shield. “When the right one touches that shield it will accept that one as its pilot.”

Laughed groaned in annoyance and decided to make a joke. “I don’t know about that.” He approached the lion. “Have any of you just tried knocking?”

 

\---

 

The years that past were different from the first. They were filled with exciting deceit – sneaking around Zarkon and his slimy generals was the thrill of a lifetime. He reported to the blade of Marmora directly from the table of Zarkon. He trained with Zarkon and with the blade, finding pleasure in drawing irritation from both parties. Quickly he learned how to turn his unfortunate situation into a bit of a joke by messing around with the sentries and bugging Zarkon’s generals. Nevertheless, there was suffering all the same – and he could be deadly in combat, when he chose to be that was.

Slowly he learned how to use the blue lion, and the paladin’s weapon – the Bayard. He spent all these years gearing himself up with the day he would finally bring Zarkon to a bloody end.

Then Shiro came.

 

_“Shiro. Shiro!”_

_“Come on; wake up pops we have to go now”._

_Lance was standing above his bed, visor drawn over his eyes. He was wearing dark purple and blue armor that Shiro had never seen before. It was gentler on the boy’s body – it modestly looks less threatening in general. There was a gun in his left hand, a sniper rifle that looked similar to his armor._

_“What’s going on?” he grumbled._

_“It is time to go.”_

_He hurried to gather his things, clothes and weapon, and leaped to follow Lance out of his room. He was surprised to be immediately thrown into battle, how had he slept through it? The corridors outside his barrack were damaged from gunfire and several sentries lie dead around the door, their chest plates with smoldering holes littering them. He looked over to lance for an explanation and the boy was already on the defense, gun lifted up to his shoulder._

_“Follow me.”_

_Shiro and Lance made their way from the barracks to the hangar in the belly of Sendak’s ship. They took down sentries by the dozen, mowing them out of their way as easily as they pleased. Shiro leaped ahead of Lance, fighting hand to hand with the robots as they came while Lance trailed close behind watching Shiro’s back closely and clearing the way around corners. They had little problem making their path clear. That was, of course, until they came upon the main hangar were Sendak sat it silent waiting – anger equaling the fires of hell burning in her eyes._

_“Morons!” He called to them; “you think you could escape that easily?”_

_The General prowled towards them, blade in hand. A wicked grin split his cheeks, his prowl turned into a run and he collided with Shiro. The general and the champion rolled like two beasts caught in hurricane – Shiro leapt about the larger alien, toying with him and striking were his defense was open, splitting his armor but making no injuries. Behind him, lance took shots where he could but in the end neither were matches for Zarkons greatest general. He threw Shiro across the room and he hit the wall with a violent thump, and he fell to the ground._

**_“SHIRO.”_ **

_Shiro’s vision went dark around the edges. He tried to lift himself from the ground but his muscles were weak and tired – he could see Sendak charging at him. He felt Sendak lift him up with only one hand and slam him back down, and then again and again, and again, and again until he could no longer feel._

_Lance came up from behind Sendak. He fired off a few shots to his backs, getting him to stop beating on a disoriented Shiro and turn to face Lance. In an instant, Lance took a running jump – he raised his weapon over his head and in a flash of blue light, it turned from a sniper rifle to a sword in midair. It came down into Sendak shoulder in one swift swipe._

_Sendak let out a great howl of pain as he fell to his knees. From his shoulder, his right arm began to spill blood. Lance’s broadsword sliced to the bone, and with a strong yank, he pulled it out again. His sword dripped blood. In a moment, it glowed and turned into a small device that then disappeared altogether. Sendak knelt before Lance, bleeding out. Lance walked around him and helped Shiro up off the ground, and walked him to an escape pod._

_“Who are you?” Shiro huffed behind the fog in his mind._

_“The rebels like to call me the Lost Paladin”. Lance quipped with a smug grin. He placed Shiro in an escape pod and took the backpack off, setting it down next to the weary man._

“ _One day soon, I hope we will be reunited properly, black paladin. However, until then I think you should go, find the other lions.” Lance slipped an alien USB into Shiro’s fake arm, it clicked and Lance smiled up at him._

I know you have questions _. The alarms began blaring around them and Sendak was still screaming at them in the background._ You get three.

_“Who are you?”_

_“I am Lance, next question.”_

_“Who am I?”_

_“You are Shiro, next question.”_

_“What is going on?”_

_“I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be a paladin – Ulaz explain it to me like a gravitational pull; each paladin knows the other on instinct. But you, the black paladin? I knew you could stay here long, Zarkon would sense it eventually if he hasn’t already, and you weren’t safe. On earth you will find the other paladins – why else would Zarkon be pulled to the planet from such great distances? Don’t be stupid, Shiro.”_

_Don’t be stupid._

_It was then the world went black. Everything began to fade; Lance, the Galra, Voltron._

_“Don’t leave me, Lance”. He begged._

_Lance said something more to him that he couldn’t understand, and he felt the younger man’s hand slowly leave his shoulder and he felt like crying._

_“Please don’t leave me”_

_“Lance”_

The best thing about being back on earth wasn’t what Shiro expected. It wasn’t that he could touch Keith again, hold his friend close and finally allow himself to cry, it wasn’t that he could shed the skin-tight flight suit and rough silks he wore with the Galra, it wasn’t the feeling of breathing genuine oxygen; it was seeing the sunrise again. It was sitting on the front porch of Keith’s dumb little shack in the desert, feeling the cool morning air wash over his tired body and watch the warm sun climb into view and shed it’s light onto everything it’s rays could touch.

He so wished Lance was here with him.

He sat on the little rocking chair on the porch for what felt like ages, watching the sun - their sun - rise over familiar cracked rocks and allow his body to experience the change in time. In his hands was the little backpack Lance had handed him, he was afraid to look in it he felt like it would be trespassing.

_“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. Tell them to stop looking.”_

“It’s good to have you back.”

_“Find Voltron. These are coordinates that will take you exactly where you need to go.”_

Keith pulled a plastic lawn chair onto the deck and sat next to Shiro, not saying anything else.

“It’s good to be back.”

After a painfully long silence, Keith placed his hand on Shiro’s shoulder and the man turned his head to look at his long lost friend. “What happened out there?”

“I can’t – “ Shiro closed his eyes tight, willing his mind to stop racing.

“It’s ok if you can’t talk about it, yet.”

“No, I can’t remember.” Shiro hissed, mostly to himself. His metal arm whirred as it clutched the tiny pack, coming so close to ripping the fabric.

“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. Tell them to stop looking.”

_“Take this to 3245 Lakewood drive, Honolulu. **Tell them to stop looking**.”_

Who said this to him? Whose backpack this? And what is voltron, _voltron_ , **voltron**.

Shiro clutched his head, willing himself to remember something, anything that could help. Nothing, nothing except a child’s voice, beautiful blue eyes shrouded in purple. Rooms full of white and black, someone making him promise not to forget and here he was doing just that.

“I need to do something, will you help me?”

“Anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a double update??  
> its more likely than you think....;)

**Author's Note:**

> this is me venting my Lance-deprivation from season 2


End file.
